


Written in the Stars(courge)

by notaverse



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaverse/pseuds/notaverse
Summary: A few words can go a long way. All the way to the end of the world, in fact. (Alternatively: Gladio's secret sideline writing fic for a series of FFXII-esque romance novels is a solo endeavour - at least, until Ignis is looking for something new to read.)





	Written in the Stars(courge)

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you spend a weekend playing FFXII with your beta and start making jokes about Gladio writing Balthier/Fran fic. Thank you, [threewalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls), for indulging me with this ridiculous thing and supplying me with an archive name! <3
> 
> Also yes, some tech is being handwaved here but I figure if even in the game, Noct's phone battery has somehow survived ten years without a single charge and he also has mobile phone service during the apocalypse, this stuff is totally plausible. Really.

It's no secret that Gladio reads a lot. He's often to be found with his nose in a book, whether that's in the backseat of the Regalia or sprawled out by the campfire. What's less obvious to those around him is the exact nature of the books he reads, at least until now.

"And you said this was the first in a series?" Ignis asks, holding up the book he's just finished reading - volume one of _Shards of Ivalice_.

Gladio takes it from him, placing it carefully back in his bag. "That's right. You want the next one?"

"I assume you have the complete set?"

"Got 'em right here."

Gladio's a firm believer in not burdening yourself unnecessarily, but he's also a fan of having entertainment on hand that doesn't involve staring at a screen. Much as he enjoys playing _King's Knight_ with the guys, there's something comforting and homey about being able to lose yourself between the pages of a paper-and-ink book, and having his favourite series with him has seen him through a number of rough nights on the road.

It's also handy to have them around for reference material, but Ignis doesn't need to know that.

"I found the politics and technology interesting." Ignis removes his glasses, setting them down on the nightstand on his side of the bed. The motel in Longwythe had only had two double rooms free, so they'd split in their usual configuration: Ignis and Gladio in one, and Noctis and Prompto in the other, where they'd no doubt stay up all night talking and playing on their phones. "Other aspects of the novel left something to be desired, however."

"Such as?"

"The question over who was the actual protagonist was somewhat muddied, I felt," Ignis says. "I don't know why that thief was even still there after the first few chapters."

"No one does," Gladio has to admit. "It's like by the time the author realised the princess should've been the main character, it was already too late."

"Speaking of the princess..."

"Do we have to? She's great an' all, but there are better characters."

"Oh, I agree; I was merely going to say that her apparent romance with the sky pirate was clumsily shoehorned in and made little sense to me. Does it continue in the later books?"

"'Fraid so," Gladio says, inwardly cheering that Ignis agrees with him. "Still want to read the rest?"

"It's going to be a long trip," Ignis says. "I'll enjoy the novelty. Besides, I'm curious to read more about the sky pirate and his partner. They were by far the most interesting characters."

"Yeah, SkyBunny's the best," Gladio says, without thinking, only realising he's let something slip without meaning to when Ignis stares at him blankly.

"SkyBunny?"

"Uh..." There's no helping it now; Ignis isn't the type to give up without satisfying his curiosity. "It's the name for their relationship. He's a sky pirate, she's basically from a race of bunnies..."

"A portmanteau?"

"Yeah, that." Gladio casts a glance at the door, half-hoping for an interruption from the neighbouring room. This isn't a conversation he'd ever thought he'd be having with the Hand of the King. "It's what the online fandom calls them. As opposed to SkyPrincess, which is... you can guess."

"Indeed. I take it that 'SkyBunny' is not given much focus in the series?"

"Wish I could tell you otherwise."

"Pity." Ignis frowns. "I don't suppose the author has written any spinoff novels?"

He sounds so hopeful that Gladio can't leave well enough alone. "The _author_ hasn't..."

Ignis looks up sharply, catching his meaning at once. "But someone else has?"

"You could say that." Gladio pulls out his phone, copying a couple of links into an email and sending it to Ignis. He's only picking gen stuff, not knowing where Ignis's tastes lie - a few long, plotty favourites that make the most of the worldbuilding yet focus on his preferred characters. No harm in that, right? "Sending you some reading material - check your email."

Ignis does, staring at his phone first in bewilderment and then in delight, when he sees what's waiting for him on the other end of those links. "These are written by fans?"

"Yeah. There's a lot of junk out there but a lot of good stuff, too. I've got more recs if you want 'em."

Ignis has been by Noct's side since he was a small child - quiet, hardworking, always too serious for his own good, though he's relaxed as he's grown. There are many things he's simply never experienced. Fanfiction, it seems, is one of them. Gladio does his best to answer Ignis's questions without giving too much of himself away, explaining the tags and rating system of _Bibliotheca Propria_ , how one can create an account and bookmark fic, how to search and filter results, how to leave kudos and comments for authors. BBP's a massive archive, run by fans for fans, and Gladio's grateful that it exists. There are, after all, only so many physical books he can take with him on a road trip.

Once Ignis realises he can search by pairing and find all the SkyBunny romance fics his heart desires, Gladio tries to extricate himself from the conversation. It works about as well as getting Noct to eat vegetables.

"When I said I had more recs, that wasn't quite what I meant," he tries. "You could sort by kudos? Do a Moogle search for rec sites?"

Ignis's eyes are as effective as his daggers for pinning a man to the wall. "You said this pairing was, and I quote, 'the best'. If you think I don't know where your interests lie in this regard, then you underestimate me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Iggy."

"We're both adults: no need to be bashful about it. If you'd just like to log in and extract your bookmarks for me-"

"My phone's overheating," Gladio interrupts. "Gonna switch it off, give it a rest for the night."

"Then use mine." Ignis holds out his own phone. When Gladio doesn't take it, a smile of realisation spreads across his face. "Unless you're concerned that I'll read your stories, too?"

Gladio attempts to laugh it off. "You think _I_ publish fic on BBP?"

"I think you're going to show me - unless you'd like me to go ask Prompto if he knows your username. I'm sure he must be familiar with this site."

Gladio knows when he's beaten. "Not one word. Noct'll never let me live this down if he knows, and there's no way Prompto could keep it from him." He sighs, taking Ignis's phone so he can pull up his BBP profile. "Here; knock yourself out. I'm gonna hit the sack."

He disappears into the tiny bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time he emerges, Ignis is scribbling notes in a pocket notebook, seemingly oblivious to Gladio settling down beside him.

"You're taking notes?"

"You're quite prolific," Ignis says. "I didn't want to rely on memory to provide feedback."

"I'm cool with you leaving me comments, but can they wait until morning?"

"I don't think these are comments you'll want me to leave. Not in public, anyway."

Ignis hands over the notebook. He's right about the comments. Gladio doesn't ask for constructive criticism when he posts, and that's what Ignis seems to be going for, at least with the few short fics he's read so far. Under each title there's a collection of notes that run the range from typos right up to descriptions of dangling plot threads and continuity errors. From anyone else, Gladio would be annoyed. From Ignis, well, it's just one more example of how logical and efficient his friend is. While it still stings a little, it's not undeserved.

"Please don't misunderstand," Ignis says when Gladio returns the notebook. "I have enjoyed what I've read of your work so far, and I have no qualms about reading whatever you produce in the future. I merely think there's scope for some polish."

And that's how, two years into his career as a fanfic author, Gladio acquires a beta.

**********

Having Ignis as a beta is, in some ways, of immeasurable benefit. Typos are a thing of the past, even though they're both working solely on their phones. No plot hole is left unfilled. The characterisation is more consistent than in the source material.

And of course, Gladio has someone with whom to discuss his ideas. Ignis has now read all four books, having been persuaded to hold off on his beta-reading until he'd familiarised himself entirely with canon, and is more than willing to play sounding board. With the online fandom community having moved away from journal-based platforms for discourse, towards separate archive and chat platforms, it's handy being able to talk about writing with an offline friend.

There is one significant drawback, however, and that is having to be on constant alert whenever such discussions take place. Gladio's used to being watchful and wary when travelling with Noctis - monsters roam soil and sky by day, daemons manifest from nowhere at night, and Imperial dropships are never far away - but the threats are usually external, not coming from their own camp.

"Domestic discussion," Ignis says crisply when Prompto pops over to ask them what they're doing, all hush-hush away from the fire. "Talking about supplies. Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Prompto is understandably reluctant to buy this excuse. "Gladio made you laugh talking about our supplies?"

"Did my best impression of Noct's horror when he finds out the only thing we're not running low on is vegetables," Gladio says, like he hadn't actually been running lines of dialogue as a scantily-dressed warrior bunny.

"We're WHAT!" comes the outraged cry from across the haven, and that immediately puts paid to any further fic discussion for the night.

It's even worse in the car. Gladio usually sits in the back, but sometimes they'll switch, especially if Noct and Prompto have been up gaming the night before and want to crash out in the backseat together. Top's down, there's one of the _King's Knight_ soundtracks blaring from the speakers and the wind's roaring through their hair as they drive through Leide, Ignis at the wheel with Gladio beside him, keeping him supplied with cans of his favourite Ebony coffee.

It's been at least fifteen minutes since Gladio's heard any sign of life from the backseat, and since Noct's greatest talent is sleeping anytime, anywhere, Gladio's pretty sure he's taking a nap. A quick check over his shoulder confirms the prince and his bestie are both out for the count, making it the perfect time to get some plotting in.

He turns down the music just enough so he doesn't have to shout over it, and leans in towards Ignis. "How about the draft I sent you last night? Any better?"

Ignis sighs, tilting his head to check the status of the two in the back in the rearview mirror before replying. "You do pick your moments." 

"Can't exactly message you when you're driving," Gladio says. "Just need to know if you think I'm on the right track, or if I should scrap everything after the first 2k."

"That would be excessive. The last five hundred words, perhaps, unless that was your attempt to deliberately lay some false clues for the reader."

It hadn't been, but Gladio will take it. It's his first time plotting a political murder mystery; given the company he keeps, he figures he's probably got some experience to draw on. "Did it work?"

"Possibly. It certainly gave me some doubts regarding the sentience of the airships and the part you've suggested they will play when the Imperials arrive to-"

"Imperials above us!"

Only the fact that it would set off the airbag keeps Gladio from slamming his head on the dash in frustration. Prompto, now wide awake, is shaking Noct back to consciousness while he scans the skies for Imperial forces. Poor kid's clearly so paranoid about the Nifs he's on alert for them even when he's asleep. Gladio can't blame him for that, after the journey they've had so far, but he can't exactly tell Prompto they'd been talking about a completely different empire.

Luckily, the Imperial dropship that chooses that moment to appear overhead proves to be a timely distraction.

It's usually better in hotels. When they split up, Gladio can talk with Ignis as much as he likes without fear (mostly) of being interrupted or overheard. Sometimes, however, the four of them share one room. Better for security purposes, so they're all there to protect Noct if anything happens. Easier to leave in a hurry if they don't have to round everyone up. Cheaper, though that's less of a factor in Galdin Quay, where the hotel's priced as extortionately as the restaurant. He'd have been happy with the caravan, but Noct's back's been bad, and if Ignis is willing to splash out on a fancy hotel for tonight, Gladio's certainly not going to argue with him.

Neither is Prompto, who busies himself documenting every square inch of Galdin Quay on camera while Noct, after escaping an uncomfortable back massage, gives up on moving for a bit and takes up residence on one of the double beds in their room. Not unexpectedly, he's asleep within minutes. It's the perfect opportunity for Gladio and Ignis to sit out in the sunshine on their balcony with a couple of cold drinks and discuss how one might kill an evil consul with a sentient airship.

"I don't want to take out the entire building," Gladio says. "His brother has to survive and take over so they can make peace."

"Given that they're in a world that conveniently has an end, why not simply have him flown over the edge of it?"

"Can't normally fly there; the skystones don't work." Gladio checks the notes he keeps on his phone, then corrects himself. "Normal skystones don't work. They've got ways around that."

They spend a pleasant half hour tossing around ideas, the murder mystery in question being less of a 'whodunnit' and more of a 'how they dunnit and made it look like an accident', and while it does serve as a respite from a trip that will only grow more harrowing as it continues, it also leads them to merge fact and fiction in concocting possible solutions to their own predicament.

"Shame we don't have an airship." Gladio pops open another can of beer, offering a second to Ignis. "The Regalia's great, but she doesn't fly."

"Don't give Noct ideas," Ignis says. "I'm sure if he asked Cindy she'd find a way to make it happen. Planning on flying all the way to Niflheim to retrieve the Crystal? I'm not sure there's enough space in the car, and in any case, we'd likely freeze before we got there."

Gladio pats his bare chest, only partially covered by his jacket so that he doesn't get barred from restaurants. He hasn't worn a shirt in days. "Speak for yourself."

"Be that as it may, if you'd like to take up a dashing new career as a sky pirate, I think you'll have to commandeer one of the dropships." Ignis sips his drink, face twisting as he works through the possibilities in his mind. "I suppose they can't be _too_ difficult to fly..."

"If anyone can figure it out, my money's on you," Gladio says, toasting him with his beer.

Ignis clinks his own can against Gladio's. "I'm sure we'd manage. Like in that story of yours where they lose the _Strahl_ early on and have to steal-"

"The _Leviathan_!"

Gladio's so startled by Prompto's appearance over the edge of the balcony that he accidentally crushes his can, squirting beer all over the table. "Damnit, Prompto!"

"Sorry!" Prompto hurriedly scrambles over the rail, pulling the rest of himself up onto the balcony. "I can get you another one? But you might have to come with, because last time I got carded and that wasn't even in some super-fancy place like this and-"

"No harm done," Ignis interrupts, pulling out a handful of napkins to spread across the table. "We should've stopped at one, anyway. Perhaps if we had, we'd have noticed your presence earlier."

"Yeah." Gladio thinks back over their chat and his stomach drops. "Just how long were you listening, Prompto?"

"Uh..." Prompto twists his camera strap between his hands, avoiding Gladio's eyes. "Not long? Maybe twenty minutes? There was this cat downstairs and I knew Noct would want a picture, but it kept moving so I followed it, and it stopped under this balcony. Isn't it adorable?" He turns his camera over and shows them a series of cat photographs, each one from a different angle.

Gladio won't let himself be bought off by cute animal pics. "And you just _happened_ to stand there and take photos for another twenty minutes because you still didn't have the perfect shot?"

"No," Prompto scoffs. "It was 'cause you started talking about some of my favourite fics on BBP. SkyBunny rules, dude."

"Keep your voice down!" Gladio hisses. He glances back through the glass doors into the bedroom. Noctis hasn't moved. It's safe to keep talking. Probably.

"You'll not find any argument here on that score," Ignis says.

Prompto smiles in relief and joins them at the table, leaning in close. "How did I not know you guys were into it too?"

"Mostly luck on our part."

"Figured if you knew, Noct'd find out," Gladio says. "Not letting that happen."

"Are you kidding me? My lips are sealed." Prompto mimes pulling a zip across his lips. "Can't let it get out that the prince's best friend has a sideline doing fanart for a series of trashy political romance novels."

Ignis leaps on that immediately. "You have art? Might I see?"

Prompto jabs at his phone a few times and hands it over to Ignis. "Help yourself."

Ignis does; Gladio wonders if he should be alarmed when what starts as an amused smile develops into full-blown laughter.

"You better not be laughing at my pics," Prompto says.

"Not directly, no," Ignis assures him. "These are excellent, and I thought as much the first time I saw them."

"The first time?"

Ignis sets Prompto's phone aside and takes out his own, turning it so that both of them can see what he's doing. He's on Gladio's BBP profile, and when he opens up the comments on the first fic in the list of works...

" _You're_ the artist who's been leaving me fanart in the comments?"

"With a username like 'QuickSilver', I suppose we should've guessed," Ignis says.

"I can't believe you're BladeBuddy!" Prompto looks ready to explode with excitement. "I love your fics! But I'd have expected a cooler username from you, man. Wasn't 'BladeBuddy' that series of teach-yourself-swordplay videos from when we were kids?"

"That series was plenty cool," Gladio growls. "If you like my work so much, lay off the name, okay?"

"Sure thing! Guess all your imagination went into the stories, huh?"

"Prompto!"

"No, really," Prompto says. "I've always liked your stuff. You got a lot better lately, though. Tighter plotting, fewer errors..."

Ignis couldn't look more smug if he tried. "He's had some help."

"Oh!" Prompto's eyes open wide. "You're BurningQuestion! His beta! He only started mentioning you in the headers a little while ago."

"I'm a recent convert."

"All my fault," Gladio says. "It paid off, though." He turns to Prompto. "Didn't expect to find out your identity this way, but your art's amazing. I even get comments from people saying they found your pics elsewhere and followed them to my fics."

"I've got a one-year anniversary pic to do soon - how about I illustrate something of yours?"

And so, having accidentally found himself a beta, Gladio follows it up by partnering with a fanartist.

**********

Meeting up with Iris in Lestallum eases some of Gladio's worries. Fatherless, now, the two of them only have each other, and this extended family they've built from bonds other than blood. Lestallum's a bright, cheery city and Iris fits right in. It's not the Crown City, and nothing can ever replace the home they've lost, but this, Gladio thinks, might be a nice place for this particular flower of the Amicitia family to set down roots.

Claiming sibling time, he leaves the others in the Leville with Jared and Talcott and takes Iris out to get the snack he's been longing for since they first arrived.

"I might've known," Iris says as they approach the Cup Noodle wagon. "We're surrounded by all kinds of restaurants and you go straight for the Cup Noodles."

Gladio grins and hands over the money for two portions. "I'm sure the restaurants are great, but I've never eaten at them before. These? Cup Noodles are the same, no matter where you go. Kind of a taste of home for me."

"That was _almost_ profound, Gladdy."

They stroll down to the outlook, sitting on one of the benches to eat. In the distance, the Disc of Cauthess burns, but otherwise it's possible to pretend all is right with the world, if only for a little while. Iris seems so happy, Gladio doesn't want to bring up sad subjects. 

Instead, he asks her: "Think you'd be okay with settling here?"

"Just me?"

"You're still only fifteen, so no, not just you. But with Jared here, you could stay. Make a new life for yourself."

"Without you, you mean."

Gladio pauses, noodles halfway to his mouth. "Not for good, but right now, I've got a job to do. Noct needs me."

"I know." Iris squeezes his arm. "I want to help him too, somehow. You think there's anything I can do for him?"

"Just... be his friend?" Gladio shrugs. While he's not completely blind to his little sister's crush on Noctis, he's fairly certain she's asking in the spirit of friendship. "Remind him he has people out here who know and care for him. That's pretty good motivation to keep going."

"Got it!" Iris pumps both fists, chopsticks twined precariously between her fingers. "I'll see what I can do. We've got to keep moving forwards, right? And Lestallum's a good place to distract people from their worries - at least if you're a tourist."

"We're only passing through, so tourism it is. What about you? Think you'd be happy here?"

"It's very different. Did you know this whole place is basically run by women? It was a woman who started the power plant here, and everything's built up around that."

Iris may not be destined for a life as a King's Shield, but she's no less determined and strong-willed for all that, and even if Gladio sometimes gives her grief over it, he wouldn't have her any other way. "Sounds perfect for you."

"It might be, even if it's not... home."

Gladio's not sure he'll ever have a place he can call home again. For all their talk about retaking Insomnia, that's a goal a long way off in achieving, and with no concrete plan. For now, they have to keep going. Sitting in the sunshine like this, it's easy to pretend they're on a normal roadtrip, just a group of friends seeing the sights without a care in the world. Like their dads hadn't seen all this coming and sent them away to keep them alive, knowing full well they'd likely be killed themselves. Ignis hasn't mentioned his uncle, but anyone in the Citadel probably wouldn't have made it out; Prompto's parents might still be out here somewhere, not having been home when they left, but given his parents, he's been as good as orphaned for years, anyway. 

He tries to focus on happier things. His friends back at the Leville, his sister beside him, the Cup Noodles in his hands. All the comments that'll no doubt be waiting in his inbox after the new fic he'd posted to BBP last night. He sneaks a quick peek while Iris is getting sodas from one of the wagons behind them, wanting to get a feel for how much time he's going to have to spend writing replies.

There's the usual mix of random keysmashing, people wanting to know when he's going to post the next chapter (even though it's marked as complete), and the one guy who keeps getting into fights with Ignis in the comments over regional spelling variations (Gladio's not going near that; if Ignis says it's correct, then it's correct). 

There's also a question he's never been asked before, from someone with the username 'RainbowMoogle'. 

_"I love all your fics, but this one really cheered me up when I needed it! Would it be okay if I recorded it as a podfic? I promise to do a good job! I've got a few podfics up on BBP already, if that helps convince you. It's cool if you say no (but I'd love it if you said yes!). <3<3<3"_

Curious, Gladio plugs his earphones in and clicks on the streaming link for one of the fics listed under RainbowMoogle's profile. It's also a SkyBunny fic, and not, he thinks, one he should probably be listening to in public, based on the rating and tags. Nevertheless, he's sort of intrigued by the possibility. He used to listen to audiobooks in the gym, sometimes, and this is more or less the same thing. If fans write their own stories, why not record them too?

His curiosity is immediately satisfied, though not in a way he'd have preferred, and he hits pause before the reader can get too far into the fic. 

"Why so grumpy?" Iris complains, sitting back down beside him and holding out a can. "Listening to the news?"

Gladio pulls out his earphones, scowling at her. "The news might've been less disturbing."

"Than what?"

He scrolls back to the comment and holds it up to show her. "Is this you, Iris?"

Iris gasps, eyes sparkling at him. It's Prompto all over again. "You're _BladeBuddy_?"

"So it is you. Just great." Gladio drops his phone on the bench so he can rest his face in his hands. This is _not_ in the Big Brother Handbook. "My little sister narrates E-rated fic on the internet for strangers. You're not even supposed to be reading this stuff! That age warning's there for a reason."

"Yes, and I made the mature, adult decision to click through anyway," Iris says. "Don't be such a prude, Gladdy. It's not like I don't already know about this stuff." That only alarms him further until she clarifies: "From books."

"Books you shouldn't even be reading."

"I'm fifteen, not _five_!"

Given that at fifteen, Gladio had already been training for the Crownsguard for two years, he supposes he probably doesn't have a leg to stand on when it comes to lecturing on age-appropriate behaviour. Still, this is his little sister, and it's a conversation he'd never in a million years have imagined he'd be having with her. "It's just weird, okay? Hearing you read it."

"Then you don't have to listen," Iris says, a practical suggestion that doesn't actually improve the situation. "You already know what my voice is like, anyway. Just say yes." She grabs him by the arm and squeezes - tightly, because she's an Amicitia, which means growing up like you never know when you're going to be called upon to strangle a Midgardsormr with your bare hands. "If it makes you feel any better, I won't record any of your rated fics."

Not that Gladio has many of those. He's better at writing action, so Ignis tells him. Daring, piratical adventures, with a solid partnership at their core; in the process, he's found a hundred different ways to express how much his characters care for each other without ever having to explicitly say it (or explicitly do other things, which may or may not be directly related to the aforementioned feelings). 

Those... might not be too bad. Possibly. Also, he's starting to lose the feeling in his arm.

"If," Gladio says, grudgingly, "you promise not to even _read_ any of my rated fics, you can record any of the others." He tugs his arm free, shaking the life back into it. "Don't think Ignis won't have ways of finding out."

He's not sure if Ignis can actually work that kind of technical wizardry, but it's not like Iris knows that, and it sounds like a plausible threat.

"Does Ignis even know what BBP is?"

"He's my beta."

"Oh! So that's why you haven't had any typos since you started travelling together!"

"Don't make me retract my offer."

"Sorry!" Iris beams up at him. "That's just really nice, that you two are a team. I didn't think Ignis would even read books like this, let alone fanfic based on them. I thought he'd be all about classical literature and cookery books."

Gladio can't resist a wicked smirk. "Let's just say I'm a bad influence."

He quickly taps out a reply to her comment, leaving a very public marker of his permission while Iris sips her soda and starts planning under her breath about which song she should use in the recording. He's not bothered about it, himself. He'll probably never listen to it. It's too weird to think about. Still, if it makes Iris happy - if it really cheers her up when she needs it - he won't begrudge her that.

"But not a word to Noct," he warns her. "He has no idea about any of this, and it's gonna stay that way."

"How about Prompto? Are you keeping it a secret from him, too?"

"Who do you think's doing all the illustrations?"

"He's so good!" Iris flails, drops of cola flying out of her can as her hands wave wildly. "You think he'll let me use some as cover art?"

And that's how Gladio's sideline as a fanfic author becomes a family enterprise.

**********

_Ten years later..._

It's hard to keep track of time inside the Crystal. Noct's been drifting in and out of consciousness forever, it feels like - never truly awake, always on the edge of oblivion. After his initial chat with Bahamut about his future, which he'd really like to forget about, he's been supposedly absorbing the Light all this time, gaining the power he needs to save the world. If that's what's been keeping him from feeling hunger, thirst, or any other bodily needs, then great, but the one thing it's not blocking?

_Loneliness_.

Noct's used to having someone to talk to, someone to play games with, someone just to sit quietly beside and know that he's not alone. Bahamut stopped answering him long ago (and doesn't seem like he'd be up for a game of _King's Knight_ , anyway). There's no one else here, except in Noct's memories.

Thankfully, he's been too out of it most of the time to feel lonely, but now things seem to be getting clearer, less muzzy. Perhaps he's reaching saturation point and soon Bahamut will expel him from this place. With that increased awareness comes increased isolation. There's only so much daydreaming he can stand to do, of futures he'll never have, of people he'll never see again, of a dawn that will break for everyone but him.

He'd rather not be alone with those thoughts. He struggles to free himself from his stupor, forcing himself to focus on waking his sluggish muscles. Curling his fingers here; stretching out his leg there. The physical movements, though initially weak, grow stronger and more certain; his mind sharpens in turn, clarity returning as it remembers that he has a body.

Eventually, he's awake enough that floating free inside the Crystal's endless starry swirls becomes disconcerting. It's a beautiful trap, one from which he has no idea how to escape. He tries, at first, to summon his weapons. His hands remain empty. Magic is equally useless to him, even if he's technically been soaking it up like a sponge for who knows how long. He shouts for Bahamut, and his voice only disappears into the emptiness. He is nowhere, and has nothing.

Except his phone, he discovers, when he finally remembers to check his pocket.

By some miracle it's fully charged, even though he knows his battery had been almost flat by the time they'd found Prompto. No bars, not that he's expecting any. Nevertheless, he tries to call Ignis, clutching the phone tightly as he selects the number. The last thing he wants is to drop it. There is, as far as he can tell, no floor in here.

_"The number you are dialling from is unavailable,"_ rumbles Bahamut's voice through the speaker before the call cuts off altogether. Noct groans and gives up on that idea.

Then he tries sending a text message to Gladio. _stuck in crystal. bring sledgehammer._

The letters disappear as fast as he types them - which is pretty fast, after all his years of playing games on his phone. After half a dozen attempts to beat the erasure, he's forced to give up on that idea, too, and his bright idea to try dictating a message is equally unsuccessful. He can say whatever he wants, but the words are completely scrambled when he checks the transcription. Prompto's used to interpreting messages Noct's written while still half-asleep, but even he'd be hard-pressed to make sense of _kbb, bdhwfn? nj1kw!_

Still, even if Noct can't communicate with the outside world, it seems like they can, in some small way, communicate with him. His phone doesn't appear to be online, but when he checks his email, his inbox is absolutely _flooded_.

There's a fair amount of junk mail, though it tapers off eventually, and he deletes them without opening. Notifications for new updates to _King's Knight_ also don't go on for long, nor do the mails he's subscribed to from various fishing publications. He dreads to think what's happened to the outside world if even the spammers have given up. Not that he can find out, because when he opens a browser, he's not able to look for news - the letters vanish before he can complete a search term.

All he can do, it seems, is read his email. 

There's the odd personal email, dated not long after Noctis would've entered the Crystal, by his reckoning, and so likely from people who wouldn't have heard yet. Nothing from Prompto, Gladio or Ignis, but why would there be? Would've been nice, though, to have some kind of message from them, even just to joke about him keeping them waiting. He hopes they haven't given up on him yet. He hopes a lot of things.

What he does have, on a much brighter note, is a whole bunch of _Bibliotheca Propria_ notifications. 

Only a handful, initially, and then there seems to be a gap of five years ( _five years???_ ) where no one he'd been subscribed to had posted anything. When he opens up the first BBP email following the gap, he discovers why.

_Dear NightLight,_

_Thank you for always supporting Bibliotheca Propria. We hope you're still around to read this email._

_When we shut down the servers five years ago to conserve power, it was a matter of necessity. When you're just trying to keep the lights on and keep everyone safe, it seems like a waste to do more than maintain the basics needed for communication. No one's got anything left to spare for fiction when real life is a daily struggle, right?_

_Turns out, that's not true. We hear it from people on the streets of Lestallum, the ones who used to have lives out there and have been reduced to hiding behind the city's walls, waiting for this long night to end. They're scared, and they're bored, and they're in desperate need of hope. No one's making movies anymore, or TV shows and games, or publishing books. No one's creating better worlds for people to dream about._

_But there are millions of stories right here, on our servers. They're not all going to end happily, and the odds are good that many of their authors are no longer with us, but they're here to serve as a distraction, and a reminder that we once lived in a better, brighter world. Although that world is lost to us, one day we will build a new one, and until then we will hold on. The people of Lucis will keep fighting._

_That's why we're back online. We've got the power now, and we've voted to spare a little for this. If you're in Lestallum, or one of the other outposts we've managed to light up again, you can now read and post to your heart's content. If you've somehow survived out there by yourself, all this time, and you're just now checking your email, then come join us in Lestallum if you can. We'll keep a light burning for you._

_Holly Teulle & Jeanne Labreigh (your archivists)_

Noct hadn't figured Holly to be secretly running a fanfiction archive on the side, but everyone needs a hobby. There's a lot to process here. Other outposts? Everyone taking shelter in Lestallum? Struggling to keep the lights on? Just how bad are things out there?

That's the only mail from the archivists. There are, however, many other BBP emails after that, with dates spanning nearly five years - almost ten years of his life, as far as he can tell, have been lost to this wretched Crystal. Some of his subscribed authors never post again. Some post regular updates, as though trying to prove that they're still here, still alive, with every new chapter, or drabble, or epic.

His favourite, he's pleased to see, seems to be alive and well, judging by the most recent emails. Noct opens up the newest, pleasantly surprised when the link to BBP actually takes him into his phone's browser and displays the fic. The first thing he sees is a link to a streaming audio version so he clicks it, starved for any sound that's not his own voice or Bahamut's.

He thinks he's never heard anything sweeter.

_"'From Out of the Dark', by BladeBuddy, read for you by RainbowMoogle and beta-listened by BurningQuestion, with cover art by QuickSilver. Fandom: Shards of Ivalice. Pairing: SkyBunny._

_"Author's note: This is the hundredth fic I'm posting to BBP, and I'm dedicating it to the team who made it possible. To BQ, who's always got my back and also keeps me from starving to death. To QuickSilver, the best shot - with both a camera and a gun - I've ever met. To my little sister, RainbowMoogle, who will probably exaggerate whatever nice thing I say about her when she reads this. And finally, to a guy who'll probably never read this, but if he does, he should know that we're still here, waiting for him to come back to us. Wake up, okay? Your family misses you."_

Iris's voice has never reduced Noct to tears before. They're happy tears, though, and he can't stop smiling. His friends have sent him a message after all.

It's... not quite the sort of message he was expecting, not after the author's note. Evidently Gladio had chosen to celebrate his hundredth fic by writing one of his rare E-rated stories, and it's almost embarrassing, floating inside the Crystal, listening to Iris read this stuff. (He can only imagine how weird it must've been for Ignis.)

"What is that ridiculous noise?" Bahamut growls, startling him into nearly dropping his phone. "Are you going to keep playing that thing?"

"Yeah!" Noct shouts back defiantly, refusing to give up the first good thing to happen to him in almost a decade. Bahamut's just going to have to deal with it.

"This is not material with which the True King should be filling his mind."

Which is precisely why Noct hadn't let anyone know that he secretly enjoys reading trashy political romance novels, much less fanfic written about them. Up until now, he'd thought his friends would've disapproved. Clearly, that's not the case. They're going to have a lot to talk about when he gets out.

"The True King is bored," he says, and turns up the volume. "You might as well sit back and relax; this one says it's five hours long."

They don't even make it to the end of the first hour before Bahamut caves. "Enough!"

The Crystal fills with blinding light; the sound of Noct's phone is drowned out by the low, metallic rumble of Bahamut's voice.

_"The Light waxes full. Go forth to the kingdom, where the Usurper awaits. Reclaim the throne, and fulfil the calling of the True King."_

**********

_Bonus_

Ardyn's so pleased when _Bibliotheca Propria_ suddenly comes back online. He's had plenty of practice when it comes to waiting, having had to kill time - and many other things - for a couple of thousand years already, but it's terribly boring when most of the world is utterly ruined, and his shiny new toy is fast asleep inside his also shiny but much older toy. Noctis will emerge eventually, of course, when the Crystal has had its way with him. All Ardyn has to do is wait.

Waiting becomes so much easier when he can indulge himself in one of his favourite pastimes. He opens up the website, navigates to the _Shards of Ivalice_ section, and looks to see what's been posted recently enough that he can be reasonably sure the authors will still be alive. Anyone who feels safe enough to be writing fanfiction and posting it online is presumably not in the middle of running away from a daemon.

He frowns at the sheer amount of SkyBunny fic being posted. The evil consul is much more to his taste, naturally; on those fics, he does the authors the favour of never leaving comments. SkyBunny, however...

He clicks into the latest, skims it in seconds, then opens up a comment box.

_This wasn't bad, but it would've been better if it had been SkyPrincess. You can have 6/10._

He moves on to the next.

_I don't normally read xeno fics but this wasn't terrible._

And the next.

_I thought everyone in this was really OOC. Did you even read the books?_

And of course, a good commenting session just wouldn't be complete without this one, a lure that never fails to start a fight in the comments with the one author's beta:

_You spelled 'favorite' wrong again. Just because they spell it with a 'u' in whatever backwards kingdom you come from doesn't make it right._

It's all small and petty, of course, but that's the secret to keeping oneself entertained over the course of millennia - enjoy the little things in life. And Ardyn does, so very, very much.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Comment on From Out of the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16581056) by [threewalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls)




End file.
